


Jasper

by KuroFae



Series: Small Moments [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, There's a baby :) more than one this time, brief mentions of panic/anxiety attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 02:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12355113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroFae/pseuds/KuroFae
Summary: He came to them the same was that Lavender had, swaddled in soft cotton, eyes squeezed shut against the light streaming in from the kitchen skylight. Since Keith had held Lavender first, Hunk gently scoops him into his arms, and for the second time in his life, the world seemed to begin to spin in reverse.Lavender had been a supernova, but he was gravity himself.





	Jasper

**Author's Note:**

> Not proofread! Feel free to point out any mistakes. :)

He came to them the same was that Lavender had, swaddled in soft cotton, eyes squeezed shut against the light streaming in from the kitchen skylight. Since Keith had held Lavender first, Hunk gently scoops him into his arms, and for the second time in his life, the world seemed to begin to spin in reverse.

 

Lavender had been a supernova, but he was gravity himself.

 

Everything he thought life had been about turned out to be insignificant once Lavender came into their lives. Of course those things, friendship and love and good company and good food and happiness, still mattered - but not as much as  _ his daughter _ . His sole purpose in life became to care for her, to ensure her future.

 

And it was the same with him. 

 

Keith had always said that Lavender took after him - dark skinned, dark haired, dark eyed, round faced and full-lipped. Hunk thought that she was infinitely more beautiful than him, but Keith insisted. So, Hunk knows that he looks like keith, with jet black hair and ears that stick a little too far away from his head. It’s endearing, to see traces of his husband in him, as if biology had never mattered at all, and genetics were developed by love.

 

Lavender took well to her brother. She tugs at Hunk’s shirt hem, asking for him to bend down so that she can tuck another daisy into the folds of the blanket. She kisses her fingers, and then presses them to his forehead, and Hunk watches as Keith practically melts. It’s spring, and the sun is warm even if the air is damp and heavy with the remnants of winter. To compensate, Keith has tucked a tiny, hand-knit (by Allura) hat over his dark hair and the tips of his ears (Hunk had practically cried when Keith brought him the bundle, now with a wooly blue beanie poking out of the top. He’d been unable to get any words out besides ‘it’s tiny’). They’re out for a walk now that the snow is gone and the grass is starting to become green again. Lavender is between Hunk and Keith, each of her hands up above her head to grip their fingers. In Hunk’s other hand, he’s swaddled up and secure against his side and in the crook of his elbow. Keith’s free hand alternates between tapping the screen of his phone and pushing his bangs out of his face (everytime he does, Hunk’s stomach makes the same little jump it’s been making for years, reminding him again and again that he’s in love). Lavender’s chattering away about normal three-year-old things, like their cat and how cold it is and that the sky’s blue because Uncle Lance said blue was the strongest colour. Her brother is fast asleep; tiny, round cheeks a little pink with the crisp breeze. Keith pauses in the middle of running his hand through his hair, looking at Hunk with a question in his gaze, and Hunk realizes that he’s smiling so much that his face is starting to hurt.

 

He sleeps much more soundly than his sister. Where she had only allowed them a handful of hours of rest at his age, he was eerily quiet. Keith, who was somehow the more nervous of the two of them, actually sets an alarm for one in the morning just so he can make sure he’s still breathing; to make sure he’s just defying some unspoken rule about infants and not actually in danger. It’s 1:03 now, and Hunk is blinking blearily at the dark ceiling as Keith rolls back into bed next to him. Cold feet press into his calves, but Keith’s torso is still warm when he lays down across Hunk’s chest. A slim hand, calloused and scarred from years of fighting a war they had no business being in as children, but terribly gentle, makes its way into Hunk’s own palm, and he squeezes. Keith sighs contently, breath ghosting over Hunk’s collarbone. There’s a beat in which they’re still, and Hunk lets his eyes drift shut again, but Keith whispers, almost inaudible, and he opens them again just to stare into the tangled mess of his husband’s bedhead.

 

_ Do you think I’ll ever stop fighting every threat, every hint of danger, in this universe to keep them safe? _

 

_ No _ , Hunk whispers back, ever so softly,  _ because you’re their father _ .

 

‘Father’ shouldn’t be a new word to Hunk, but it still is. It’s been more than three years, but sometimes he’ll still find himself staring into the eggs frying in the pan; at his own reflection as he brushes his teeth; at the cartoon bear smiling uncomfortably wide on the baby powder bottle, and just think,  _ we’re fathers, we have two children, we’re _ fathers. Keith has a plain gold wedding band on a chain around his neck that he, their son, likes to tug at and chew on when Keith’s attention is on something else, like pressing his lips against Hunks, or trying to zip up Lavender’s jacket with one hand. Right now, it’s the former, and Hunk pulls away to breathe and simultaneously remove tiny fingers from the ring. Keith hums, and spins the ring to the back of his neck, and leans up and forward to take Hunk’s bottom lip into his mouth again. Between their chests, half-swaddled and apparently uninterested in the proceedings, the grabby fingers are accompanied by an indignant squawk, and they fly up and grip Keith’s hair. Keith hisses, and his teeth catch on Hunk’s lip as he ducks his head to avoid the pain. They jump apart, Keith muttering ow, ow, ow under his breath and trying to free his hair with one hand, while Hunk presses a thumb to the nip on the sensitive inside of his lip. The pain is nothing, they’ve been through so much worse, but Hunk doesn’t think he’s seen anything funnier than this. He can’t help himself, and starting giggling around his thumb. Keith finally tugs his hair free, and gives him a look that means Hunk’s betrayed him, but within a few seconds his furrowed brow drops and he’s laughing too. Against his chest, fingers back around the golden band, he shrieks too.

 

He’s not quite a year old, and he’s sick. Hunk’s anxiety is at full strength, keeping him up at night, screaming in the back of his head during the day. He’s afraid to set him down in the crib, afraid to put him down at all. Hunk’s hands dwarf him, and clutch a little tighter, a little more protectively, each time he coughs. Hunk’s other hand is clutching  _ Ill Infants: A Parent’s Guide to Common Sickness _ , and it’s shoved so far up to his eyes that his nose is pressed against the crease of the pages. He’s almost sick himself, sick with worry the likes of which he had never felt. He’s trembling, reading the same lines of the book over and over again, and he doesn’t realize he’s panicking until Keith’s hands are taking the book away, touching his face, trailing down to his waist. Hunk realizes that Keith’s talking, but he can’t hear him. He hasn’t cried in a few days, probably something of a new record for him, but it’s broken now as he feels fat tears spill over his waterline and down his cheeks. Keith murmurs into his hair, planting little kisses along his forehead. In his arms, he coughs again, and Hunk looks down at his tear-blurry, fever-red face, and wails that he’s  _ so worried _ and that he can’t  _ do anything  _ and he  _ can’t protect him, he’s just one person _ . Keith presses soft lips to his temple and whispers  _ you’re not alone, we’re here together; the two of us _ , and that makes things just a little bit better.

He gets better, and Hunk relaxes, and soon he’s waddling around the house and chasing after Lavender, screeching in happiness and throwing his plush toys at the ground with pure vigor. Of course, it’s more like they’re falling, but Hunk never stops cooing over how strong he is, how impressive he is. Lavender gets jealous, as kids often do, and when she throws her own stuffed animals, Hunk grins and calls her the strongest girl alive, the strongarm hero, the only person who can lift one thousand pounds. She laughs, but flexes and poses with him and her brother. Keith’s watching them through the kitchen pass-through windows, and Hunk can hear the shutter on his phone clicking. He lets Lavender tackle him to the ground, yelling about being defeated by the strongwoman of the century, and her brother shrieks again and launches onto his stomach. Hunk laughs, letting them swarm all over him, and turns his head toward the kitchen, bangs falling in his face. His husband leans on the pass-through window ledge, phone in one hand and the other twirling his hair absently. The light from the kitchen window illuminates him from behind, and the setting sun dyes his skin golden. He smiles, and he’s glowing. Hunk lets his eyes catalogue the curve of his nose, the scars peppering his cheekbones, the tiny freckles under his eyes that he can’t even really see, but knows they’re there. He’s trying to commit Keith’s face to memory; sear it onto the insides of his eyelids. Keith blinks at him, head tilting, questioning his staring, but he doesn’t break eye contact. Lavender yells for him,  _ Daddy _ , and Keith’s smile grows even wider. Hunk’s fallen in love with the father of his children all over again.

 

Hunk knew, the moment he held him for the first time, that he had become the new center of gravity in his life. Him and Keith, they call Lavender their supernova, a nickname that feels right in the household of two of the defenders of the universe. It’s only right that he got a similar one. The center of their gravity. Living, breathing proof of their love and undying loyalty. He’s a symbol of  _ them _ , but so much more. Even though Hunk knows the human capacity for love is infinite, he feels as though he was so utterly full of love for him, and his sister, that trying to love any more people was futile. It’s pouring rain, the skies outside as dark as if it were dusk instead of noon. They’re all nestled into bed, in a rare moment of tranquility and quiet.  _ My Neighbor Totoro  _ is playing on Hunk’s laptop at the foot of the bed, but not even Lavender is really paying attention. Hunk has him tucked up against his side, elbow supporting his head. He’d fallen asleep a few minutes ago, but he’d been chattering away softly before, about how rain was the earth crying, but it was happy crying because all the plants and animals needed a drink. Lavender is still awake, but barely. She’s on her stomach, head turned towards her brother, so Hunk can see her eyes drooping lower and lower. Her face is pink with warmth, the duvet tucked up around her shoulders. Keith is running a hand through her hair; stroking it smooth; massaging along the back. He’s propped up on one elbow, on his side, his hair is falling loose and long. The blankets pool at his waist, and Hunk traces his broad shoulders; his jawline; his sides with his eyes, full of love, love,  _ love, love _ . Keith catches his eye, and Hunk realizes that he’s humming, ever so softly. The laptop screen has gone blank, but Keith’s still humming a soft tune. Hunk lets his eyes slide shut, lets the humming warm him, pays attention to the rise and fall of his son’s chest against his. Keith’s humming pauses, and Hunk almost asks him to keep going, but it’s replaced by this actual voice. Sleepy, rough, warm, and so full of adoration.

 

_ Hey let’s go, hey let’s go, _

_ I’m happy as can be. _

_ Let’s go walking, you and me, _

_ Lavender, Jasper, let’s go. _

 

_ Over the hill, across the field _

_ Through the tunnel we'll go _

_ We'll run across the bridge _

_ And down the bumpy gravel road _

_ Creep beneath the spider's web _

_ Papa too, let’s go. _

 

Hunk smiles, and lets his eyes slide back open. Keith is still staring at Lavender, who has finally let her eyes slide shut. Hunk smiles, and thunder rumbles underneath Keith’s soft tones.

 

_ Hey, let's go, hey, let's go, _

_ I'm happy as can be. _

_ Let's go walking, you and me _

_ Lavender, _

 

Keith presses a kiss to her hair.

 

_ Jasper, _

 

He stretches a bit further and touches his lips to his forehead.

 

_ let's go. _

 

_ The foxes and the badgers too _

_ All come out to play _

_ They all want to explore _

_ The deep and wonderful woods all day _

 

Keith’s gaze drags up to meet Hunk’s eyes, and his voice somehow becomes softer, smoother, even quieter. A melodic whisper, something private and full of adoration.

 

_ Look at all my cherished ones, _

_ My daughter, husband, and son. _

 

Hunk’s eyes close again, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

 

_ Look at all my family, _

_ Lavender, Jasper, and Hunk. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on Tumblr!](http://kuro-paladin.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Stroll - My Neighbor Totoro: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IPtn7RIKsYM
> 
> I'm not as pleased with this one as I am with Lavender but :,) I'm still crying


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